


Living the Sweet Life

by pseudosmodingium



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Beach Vacation, Canon Divergence, First Kiss, First Time, Gabriel (Supernatural) Lives, Jack still has his powers, Lucifer is still dead, M/M, Michael!Dean never happened, Post-Season/Series 13, Team Free Will 2.0, not in Hawaii though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 17:01:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14898474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudosmodingium/pseuds/pseudosmodingium
Summary: Everyone is back home safely from Apocalypse World, including some (not exactly) new additions to their hunter's family, the Devil is dead for good and Gabriel has made up his mind to restore Heaven. Basically, they've come off better than ever before, so it's time for Team Free Will 2.0 to go on a well-deserved vacation.





	Living the Sweet Life

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize to all Italians for the generic setting. I basically combined all my Italian holiday experiences for this fic.

Sam tosses his duffel bag on the pile in the library. “You guys ready?” he asks, only to notice that Jack is the only other person in the room. “Where are Dean and Cas? I thought everything’s packed.”

“They had an argument about Castiel’s clothes,” Jack says.

“Why, what did he wear?”

“The usual. And then Dean said he’ll get too hot in those where we’re going and then Cas said he never gets too hot and then Dean dragged him away.”

Sam rolls his eyes and takes a seat, considering if he should begin one of the books he picked to read this week but then he’s hearing voices in the hallway, coming closer. His eyebrows rise high towards his hairline as he spots Cas in his new outfit. He’s wearing a pair of Dean’s old jeans that must’ve been too big on his brother but fit the angel perfectly, and a plain black T-shirt, also Dean’s he assumes. “Lookin’ good, Cas,” he says and Cas smiles back at him. “Thank you, Sam.”

“See, I told you,” Dean says to Cas, sounding a little whiny, like they’ve already had this talk and Cas didn’t believe him. Then, to Sam, he says, “You ready to go?”

“Only been waiting for you,” Sam says, “what did you pack?”

“Less plaid than usual. But I still need to do some shopping once we’re there. It’s not like I have a lot of clothing for a beach vacation. I only own one pair of shorts, can you believe that!”

“Yeah, I know those and if you decide to wear them in public, I don’t know you.”

“You’re just envious I have great legs to show around.”

“They’re bowed, Dean!” His brother shakes his head and picks up his bag instead of replying.

“You sure you can zap all four of us at once, kid?” Dean asks Jack. He has already ensured them he can do it but Dean is still a bit wary when it comes to angelic transportation. But he’ll accept a little constipation if he can go to Hawaii without spending a few hours in a flying death machine from hell.

“Of course I can,” Jack says and shoulders his backpack. “Just hold each other’s hands tight and don’t let go before we’ve reached our destination.”

“Alright,” Dean says and swings his duffel bag over his shoulder, Sam following suit. Jack takes his hand, Sam grabs Jack’s other hand and Cas’s as well.

“I’ll have a glass of tomato juice and some peanuts, please,” Dean says and with a rustle of feathers they disappear from the bunker.

 

The world spins for a moment when they land in an alleyway. Dean lets go of Jack’s hand and tries to breathe. “I’ll never get used to this,” he wheezes. “So,” he says, still gasping, “where’s the beach?”

“Maybe we should try to find a hotel first,” Sam says.

“Alright, you lead the way, sir. Find us a good one. But also an inexpensive one. Wait, where’s Jack?” Cas gives him a questioning look and then looks over his shoulder only to find no-one there.

“Jack!” he calls without waiting for an answer and his first instinct is to look behind the stack of wooden pallets next to what seems to be the back door of a restaurant. “He’s here,” he calls.

“What are you doing, kid?” Dean asks after following Cas’s voice.

He’s watching Jack pat an orange cat on the head like it’s the most adorable sight ever. It purrs in response and rubs the length of its body against the boy’s leg until Dean grabs his arm and pulls him away. “Ew, Jack, its unsanitary to touch stray animals. They carry disease.”

“Dean,” Sam interjects, “relax, it’s just a cat.”

“And its germs will kill you,” Dean deadpans. “Now go find us a place to stay for the week.”

Sam pulls out his phone but frowns instantly.

“Something wrong?”

“I don’t think… We’re not… Jack, where did you take us? We were supposed to go to Hawaii.”

“We’re not!?” Dean’s words echo from the walls.

“I rather wanted to see this part of the world,” Jack says with huge puppy eyes, not appearing to feel guilty in the slightest.

“So where the fuck are we?” Dean almost yells.

“Italy,” Cas says, eyes closed and fingers on his temples.

Sam shrugs. “I’ve always wanted to go to Italy.”

“Don’t tell me you’re okay with this! This is not how we do things. We decided we’re gonna spend our first real vacation ever in Hawaii and not, well, here,” Dean says, stretched out arms gesturing towards their surroundings.

“The last time I was here the Roman Empire still existed,” Cas throws into the conversation and Dean shoots him a look that screams betrayal.

“And I know Sam always wanted to visit the remains of this period,” Jack says with a toothy grin, Sam patting his back in response.

“Just consider it, Dean,” he says, “the history, the people, the language, the _food._ And Italy has lots of sandy beaches.”

Dean wants to argue further but three pairs of eyes are glued to him, begging, and he can’t but give into the joint wish of his family to spend their vacation here instead of Hawaii.

“Fine,” he sighs and Sam and Jack’s faces light up.

“Great,” Sam says, “let’s go find a hotel. I’d say we try this way,” and Jack walks next to him while Dean and Cas stay a few feet behind.

“We can go to Hawaii another time,” the angel says as if Dean needs cheering up.

“Yeah, when? This is the first vacation I’m having in, like, ever, and I’m still feeling anxious in the back of my head that the world might fall apart while I’m sipping cocktails with my toes in the sand. The girls said they’ll cover for us this week but I’m telling you, as soon as there’s something bigger than a vamp or a ghost, we’re going home.”

“The fate of this world is not your responsibility alone.”

“We’ve had this conversation before and yes, it is. But I’ll try to act like it’s not for a few days,” Dean promises him.

They follow Sam and Jack down a slant road of what seems to be a ghost town. In the distance they hear the languorous toll of a church bell announce that it’s two o’clock in the afternoon. The buildings they pass on their way are old, some in better condition than others, and all window shutters are closed. It’s already very warm now, in late May, but it’s obvious the sun will still gain strength in the upcoming weeks. Dean pulls out his sunglasses from his shirt collar and sets them on his nose. The road takes another turn and behind a tall building appears, open and wide, the blue ocean, sunlight glistening on its calm surface.

Dean only notices his feet have stopped walking when he catches Cas’s eyes looking back at him. He’s squinting and Dean makes a mental note to get him a pair of sunglasses as well before falling back into a stroll. They keep walking for a while until they’ve come down pretty far to sea level and Sam comes to a halt at a three-story hotel advertising its three stars with a sign on its corner.

“What do you think?” Sam asks.

“Three stars plus off-season. Seems affordable to me,” Dean concludes and Sam steps ahead into the foyer.

“Hi, uh, buongiorno,” he greets the bored looking woman at the reception. “We don’t have a reservation but do you happen to have two rooms for us?”

She puts her magazine aside and wakes up the computer. “I need ID and your signature here,” she says and hands Sam a form and a pen. “How many nights will you stay?”

“Five?” Sam asks over his shoulder to confirm back with Dean, then he tells the clerk “five,” and hands her one of his fake IDs and a credit card.

“You are here with your family or friends?” the woman asks finishing the transaction and Sam tells her, “Family. We’re brothers.”

“I thought so,” she says and then, with a bright smile, she adds, “you all look very much alike. Have a nice stay.” Sam takes their keys from her with an awkward smile upon her comment and after being informed their rooms are on the second floor, they head upstairs.

“Okay, quick unpacking, put on some beachwear and then off we go,” Dean says and unlocks their room while Sam hands Cas the key for the second room.

“What the hell?” Dean exclaims after Sam has closed the door behind them, staring at a double bed. “Am I supposed to share a bed with my brother for a whole week or what? Sam, this is not okay, go back downstairs and tell her!”

“Dean, look,” Sam calms him, “it’s just two singles pushed together.” He pulls the beds apart and Dean eases, dropping his bag on the one closer by the door. As usual, he doesn’t unpack everything, always ready to leave quickly in case of an emergency, but sets his beach towel, sunscreen, swim trunks and another T-shirt on the mattress. Sam leaves for the bathroom to change so Dean quickly slips out of his jeans and makes himself ready to go to the beach.

 

When they get out onto the street, there are people walking by and some small shops have opened in the meantime and Dean suggests taking a look at those first. Jack immediately sets his eyes on a big inflatable orca and Dean is in a good mood now that he can smell the ocean and decides an air mattress to float around on can’t hurt either. On his way to the cash register he passes a rack with sunglasses and calls Cas, who is looking at postcards, to come over and try some on.

“How about these,” he says but Dean grabs the pair from his hand and sets it back down before Cas can even put them on properly. They’re hideous, like some kind of sport style rip-off with red and yellow glasses.

“No, try these,” Dean says and hands him a pair of aviators instead. Cas takes a look in the small mirror on top of the rack and then faces Dean, awaiting his verdict.

His brain short-circuits at the sight and “Uhhh” is everything he can come up with for a moment.

“Dean, what do you think?”

“They’re, uh, they’re, yeah, take these, they’re good,” Dean manages finally and makes the purchase along with Jack’s toy, the mattress and two big bottles of water.

The beach is very close by and Dean tries to look where he’s going instead of staring at Cas’s newly bespectacled face. Their hotel room came along with two parasols and four sun loungers and everyone spreads a beach towel on theirs but Jack, instead of lying down on it, sits down in the sand, weirdly fascinated by its texture as if it’s the first time he’s seeing sand, and starts digging a small hole with his hands. They probably should’ve bought one of those children’s buckets as well but he supposes it’d draw too much attention to them, considering Jack looks much older than he actually is.

Cas settles on the lounger close to Dean’s and Sam is busy applying sunscreen, tossing it to Dean when he’s done and opening the book he brought. Dean’s almost done rubbing sunscreen on his skin when Cas, wordlessly, takes the bottle from him and begins to do his back for him. He wants to protest, because he could’ve done it himself and he didn’t ask Cas to do this, but Dean is so taken aback by the intimacy of the gesture that he just lets it happen. At least he doesn’t have to look him in the eye for this.

“Thanks,” he mumbles when Cas is done and lies down, eyes closed, listening to steady waves washing ashore. Dean dozes off for a while and when he comes to again, Jack is playing in the surf with his orca under Cas’s watch and Sam puts down his book when he sees Dean being awake.

“Wanna go for a swim?” he asks and Dean gives him an affirmative nod.

“Hey, Jack, I think your whale is stranded,” Dean says when they reach the water. The boy looks upset all of a sudden. Dean raises his shoulders. “What did I say?”

“I think Jack is afraid of going further into the ocean,” Cas growls.

“What, why?”

“Jack,” Sam says softly, kneeling in the wet sand beside him, “do you know how to swim?”

The boy bites his lip and shakes his head.

“Do you want me to teach you?”

“Would you do that?” Jack asks, hopeful.

“Of course, Jack. Come on, we’ll have to actually go into the sea first. Leave your orca with Dean and Cas.” He gives them a brief look to make sure they’ve heard what they’re supposed to do and, slowly, but with intent, follows Sam into waist-deep water.

“I suppose it’s not like he could actually drown,” Dean says and Cas picks up the inflatable whale.

“No, but it’ll be good for him to learn.”

“Give me that thing,” Dean says then, takes the orca and Cas’s sunglasses as well and quickly drops their stuff off by their loungers and signals Cas to join him for a swim. A small distance away, Jack is dog paddling but gets interrupted by Sam showing him what motion to do with his arms instead.

“You look happy, Dean,” Cas notes as they leisurely swim side by side.

“Well, the world isn’t ending for once and everyone’s alive and safe,” Dean says.

“It’s what you deserve, you and Sam and Jack. Some time for yourselves. You’ve earned it after all that you’ve been through.”

“This includes you too, Cas, you know that, right?” He doesn’t reply.

“I mean it, Cas, everything we did we couldn’t have done without you. And you convinced Gabriel to take care of Heaven all on your own.”

“I was supposed to look after Jack and then I lost him.”

“He managed to get lost in an alternate universe all by himself—it wasn’t your fault.” When Cas still doesn’t agree, Dean comes to a halt on his feet in the only chest-deep water. Cas stands as well, waiting for Dean to scold him again but instead, a second later, Dean jumps at him and pushes his head under water.

“Dean, what…?” Cas gasps after struggling back above the surface.

“Stop insisting on being a fuck-up or I’ll do it again.”

“I… Dean, look!” he says, pointing a finger over Dean’s shoulder and when he turns his head to see what’s going on, Cas is at him and Dean takes a gulp of ocean water.

“Ew, fuck, fish poop in here, Cas!” he moans but Cas only looks at him smugly. “You’re an ass.”

“You started it.”

“Fine, but don’t do that again.”

“Only if you don’t do it either.” Dean wants to say something but all he can do is smile at Cas. He _is_ happy.

“Let’s go back; it’s getting cold in here,” he says then and Cas follows him as he stalks up to the beach.

They spend the next two hours sunbathing and cooling off in the ocean from time to time and Sam and Jack actually make progress with their swimming lessons. When the sun begins to descend towards the horizon, they pack their things and go back to their rooms to shower and getting dressed for dinner.

 

“I’m starving, man. Can’t you be a little less picky?” Dean whines when Sam has dismissed yet another restaurant.

“That was a real tourist trap, didn’t you notice? I want authentic Italian food for a reasonable price,” Sam says and Dean feels already dizzy from hunger but, fortunately, the next place they see seems to fulfill his brother’s strict criteria and a friendly looking waiter invites them to sit and hands them menus in English.

They order a bottle of water _senza gas,_ white wine for Sam, a beer for Dean and a lemon soda for Jack. Dean can barely decide what he should eat and reckons some home-made lasagna can’t hurt. Jack gets linugine con pesto, Cas also orders pasta that will mostly be eaten by Dean in the end, and Sam has his with seafood along with a salad, of course.

“This is Heaven,” Dean says after his first bite but corrects himself immediately. “No, I’ve been to Heaven and it sucked. This is better.”

Sam agrees and Jack nods along while sucking a bunch of noodles into his mouth.

They sit some time longer after they’ve eaten up, the waiter eventually encouraging them to have some digestif and because it tastes so good and they’re so comfortable right now, they have another round.

Dean feels at ease but not _actually_ drunk but maybe slightly and after paying their bill they decide to wander around for a little while before going back to the hotel. A lot of shops are still open and Dean leads their small group into one that primarily seems to sell clothing for beach vacationers, which they are, and he ends up buying himself and Cas matching shorts with a palm tree pattern so Cas doesn’t have to wear Dean’s old jeans all the time and Sam won’t die of embarrassment from Dean wearing his short shorts. And fuck saving money, they’re on vacation for god’s sake, so he, too, gets all four of them colorful shirts that are not actually Hawaiian but they’ll do.

When he goes to bed later, Dean is certain he can hear the ocean through the open balcony door, and for the first time in a long time he drifts off into a recuperative, dreamless sleep.

 

Castiel vividly remembers the Old Romans and, like their gods, they knew how to party. He was only allowed to watch back then but he’s very fond of the memories from those times. He wouldn’t mind going to a museum, like Sam suggested, as it would be like looking at a photo album for him. He could point out some of the historians' inaccuracies and paint the guys a picture of what the statues had actually looked like—not plain white marble but full of elaborate colored details.

“Why would you go to a museum during our vacation? We need to do research on weird artifacts all the time and we literally live in bunker filled with antiquities?” Dean argued and he isn’t wrong. Some academics would be green with envy if they knew what treasures the Winchester’s had inherited from the Men of Letters.

Jack, on the other hand, was enthusiastic about exploring the area and going to places that are not the beach or the small town they’re staying in.

“Whatever, I’ll look into car rentals and Jack and I will make a little tour. Cas can come, if he wants,” Sam concluded and Cas said he’ll think about it, though he’d feel bad for leaving Dean behind all on his own.

They’ve only been here for three days but the Italian sun is strong and the humans in their small group have gained a visible tan already. On Dean, especially, he can see a difference. The color of is hair has begun to become lighter and a handful of freckles dot his shoulders now as well. He can’t stop staring at these shoulders, Dean’s back that’s starting to get red. Cas has made sure every day that Dean wouldn’t get sunburnt there, though. At first he wasn’t sure if was going too far by simply taking the bottle and rubbing sunscreen onto his skin but Dean didn’t object and they’ve been doing this twice daily since. Dean has fallen asleep on the air mattress and Cas has swum up to him so he wouldn’t drift too far away from the shore. He didn’t want to wake him, though, so he’s just been floating next to Dean for a while, giving the mattress a slight push towards the beach every now and then. He’s glad that Dean is able to just relax under the open sky and sleep without a gun within reach. A slightly bigger wave hits the mattress and for a second Cas fears it could turn over but nothing happens and Dean only emits a small grunt. They really should go back under the sunshade where it’s cooler and Dean isn’t at risk getting sunstroke but he’s as peaceful as he never gets to be under normal circumstances.

“Dean,” Cas whispers, hovering right beside his head. “Dean,” he repeats with more intent, really close to his ear and Dean finally startles awake and with a splash he drops into the ocean.

“Dean, are you okay?” Cas rushes towards him but he’s already resurfaced when he gets there. “I’m so sorry, Dean,” Cas apologizes when Dean wipes his wet hair out of his face. “I didn’t mean to alarm you. I was worried because you’ve been out here for quite a while and I don’t want you to get sunburnt.”

“It’s okay, Cas,” Dean huffs and drapes his upper body over the air mattress. “Let’s go back,” he says and signals Cas to get onto the mattress as well. Leisurely, they paddle with their feet until the water’s getting too shallow to swim

Jack and Sam, a small stretch away from their parasols, are sitting on the ground, digging and piling up sand, attempting to build a sand castle.

Cas takes a seat on Dean’s lounger, behind him, and gets to applying sunscreen again. The first time he did this, Dean had flinched at his touch but now he’s actually leaning into it a little bit which makes Cas become more daring and apply more pressure as he massages the cream into his skin. Dean’s throwing his head back, just slightly though, and Cas doesn’t think he’s even aware of doing so. Cas presses his thumbs into his flesh, upwards along his spine, spreading the sunscreen with his palms over Dean’s freckly shoulders, down his arms, leading Dean to abruptly extract himself from Cas’s touch. _So this is where Dean draws the line, noted._

Dean clears his throat and shifts again on his bath towel. “Uh, thanks, Cas. I think I’m good now.”

Cas is still sitting right next to him so their faces are quite close when Dean says this, the golden specks in his irises shimmering, even though they’re beneath a shade, when a shy gaze meets Cas’s from under long lashes.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, a deep-throated sound, and, after a prolonged stare, Dean hurriedly averts his eyes and looks into the direction of Sam and Jack instead.

Cas may still have his difficulties with social cues and human emotions but he is not stupid. He’s very well aware that there’s something simmering inside both of them, something strong and beautiful, only waiting for the barriers keeping it locked inside to burst and to finally become… _something._

“I can’t watch that,” Dean says suddenly, “the sand is too dry; they need to moisten it more or it will keep falling apart over and over again.” He bounces off the lounger and disappears behind the rows of parasols behind them, only to emerge a minute later with a turquoise _Finding Nemo_ bucket and a matching shovel.

Cas follows him as he walks towards the other’s sand castle construction site. “Where did you get that?” Sam asks when he sees what Dean is carrying.

“I borrowed it,” Dean says.

“From whom?”

“A little boy who’s napping and doesn’t need it right now, so shut up. I’ll give it back when we’re done here.”

“We?” Sam asks, a little perplexed, but Dean can’t hear him because he’s already further down by the shoreline, filling the small bucket with water.

“See, that’s how it’s done, kid,” Dean says when he’s toppling over the bucket after filling it with wet sand and a single small tower emerges from underneath it. He hands Jack, who seems fascinated by what he’s just learned, bucket and shovel and they get onto building tower after tower, Dean ordering Sam to get more wet sand from the shore every now and then, Cas moving to help Sam with this task. It’s a joy to see Jack like this, all smiley and concentrated at the same time, carefully lifting the bucket so the tower won’t collapse. Childhood is a luxury that the boy couldn’t afford, considering the circumstances he was born into. And Dean never got to be a child either, forced to grow up at a much too young age as well, burdened with taking care of his infant brother before he had even learned to tie his shoes. Therefore, Castiel is enormously happy to see them both playing in the sand, sorrows far, far away, faces brightening with every part that is being added to the structure, little sand castle builders in the bodies of grown men. A sigh escapes his throat because his heart is full so at this very moment.

“This is looking good; I think it’s done,” Sam says eventually, after some time of sweat-inducing labor under the hot afternoon sun.

“I don’t know. Something’s missing,” Dean ponders and an idea pops up in Cas’s head.

He jogs down to the water and collects a handful of things from the surf. “Better?” he asks after decorating the towers and walls with some clam shells.

“I like it,” Jack says, his grin all shiny teeth.

“Well done, buddy,” Dean says and drops a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. He can’t help but reciprocate their smiles and, although he may be reading too much into it, Dean’s small gesture makes his insides feel weightless for a second.

In the evening, after dinner, they saunter through the historic alleys, stopping by a _gelateria_ for some ice cream and Dean insists Cas get one too, even if only for pretense, mocha-flavored, though Cas supposes Dean just doesn’t want him to feel left out. Cas gives in for the sake of normalcy. It’s similar to his recently acquired habit of rubbing sunscreen onto Dean’s back. If Dean actually gets sunburnt, Cas could heal him with a simple touch but ordinary people don’t have an angel with them when they go on a beach vacation and, for once, Cas feels like he’s here with them not only because he can be of use preventing skin cancer but because the Winchesters, Dean especially, want him here. And Cas _wants_ to be here. He wants to be around all the time and he wants to be wanted. His head starts spinning from all that longing and he isn’t so sure if it’s actually all his or if someone else’s seeps into the feeling.

They cross the town’s main piazza and after finishing their cold treats, Sam leads them inside the impressively large cathedral. A magnificent indigo sky is spread across the vaulted ceiling, silver stars spotting the dark color.

“Wow,” Sam exhales, stunned. “This is beautiful.”

“Yeah, look at the family portraits,” Dean murmurs, elbowing Cas’s side. “Gotta say, this looks nothing like good old Gabe.”

“And neither like any of his former vessels,” Cas notes, studying the Annunciation work above the altar in one of the few small chapels. He fidgets fifty cents out of his pocket and drops them through the slit of the offertory box under the candle rack. Eyes closed, he lights a small candle and sends his brother a brief prayer, wishing him all the best for his work in Heaven.

Instantly, a tear runs down the small Madonna sculpture’s cheek beneath the painting. Cas groans.

“Gabriel?” Dean asks, a little confused.

“You know, most of these so-called miracles,” Cas says, using his trademark air quotes, “it was actually him. As you know, he loves messing with people, and devout Christians seemed to be particularly easy to fool.”

“Oh, that’s harmless. Making Saint Mary cry is innocent compared to making me die a thousand deaths in one day,” Dean states.

“I know. His tricks got nastier throughout the centuries. I’m glad he’s finally come to his senses.”

Sam and Jack have taken a seat in one of the benches, the former reciting from an information folder he picked up at the entrance, and Dean and Cas sit in the row behind them while Sam continues to read about the history and architecture of this church.

Dean is leaning back, face directed towards the painted sky, and somehow the tips of his fingers find the back of Cas’s hand resting on the bench between them, gently brushing his knuckles. Just for a moment, though, because when an elderly lady with a black lace veil on her head shushes Sam for disturbing her silent prayer, Dean quickly withdraws his hand and indicates them to leave.

As soon as they step out into the warm evening air, Dean bursts into laughter, Sam joining in after a moment of bemusement and hesitance, Jack observing them closely and participating in their laughter eventually as well.

“Come on, let’s have a nightcap somewhere,” Dean says then, when he’s calmed down, draping an arm around Sam’s shoulders and leading them to a bar not too far from their hotel. A group of old men is sitting out on the sidewalk, smoking cigarillos, drinking red wine out of small glasses, talking with hands battered from years of hard work.

“Can you imagine us here in thirty years, Sammy? Just like them,” Dean says. It’s one of the few occasions where Dean appears to believe in a future that is not an early death and Cas wishes this is exactly what’ll happen—Sam and Dean, old and wrinkly, gray hair or bald, living in a town by the sea, the mild ocean breeze easing the aches that come with age. Cas is uncertain if and how he fits into this scenario.

Dean finds them a small table and orders four drinks at the bar. Sam finds they have a stable Wi-Fi connection here and sends Jody a message that they’re alright and a snapshot of Jack burying Dean’s body, spare of his head, in the sand and his brother sculpting himself “boobies”. Jody texts back that the world back home is still in one piece and Dean remembers that he was supposed to keep in touch with their mother, asking about Bobby as well, the question followed by a wink-eye emoji. “Let’s just hope she doesn’t reply with a graphic picture,” he says and shoves the phone back into his pocket.

“I’ve rented a car for tomorrow by the way,” Sam says then and again asks Cas if he wants to join him and Jack for a trip to the hinterland.

Cas thinks about it for a moment but when his eyes land on Dean casually sipping his drink, he politely declines the offer. “Have fun tomorrow and tell me everything when you’re back,” he says.

Jack, actually, sleeps through most of the night, which isn’t surprising after all the action he had on the beach today.

 

They spend the day like every other day since they came here, even though Sam and Jack have gone on an adventure of their own…which leaves him here with Cas. Cas who, not pausing their routine, begins their lazy beach day with putting cream on his back, and Dean doesn’t admit how much he’s come to enjoy this part of their vacation. Cas has always made sure to take care of him but Dean still doubts he deserves this amount of affection. Today, though, Cas doesn’t seem to stop. If Dean didn’t swat away his hand, Cas would’ve rubbed sunscreen on every inch of his skin and Dean can only accept this much tenderness in a certain period of time.

“Enough,” he says, “that’s enough. Stop mothering me!”

“I am not mothering you, Dean. I just want to make sure—”

“Yeah, yeah I know. I appreciate that but I think we’re done here,” he says and the sudden harshness of his words startle him enough to choose flight and off he is, running against the waves and taking a dive head first into the water as soon as it’s deep enough, forgetting that he’s still wearing sunglasses.

He puffs, lucky not to have lost his glasses that are dangling from one ear. Without a word he stalks back up to his lounger, lies down on his stomach and closes his eyes, face turned away from Cas, indicating silence.

After some time, Dean’s overcome by his bad consciousness and apologizes to Cas for being so rude.

“You know who I learned that from, worrying so much?” Cas asks him with a smirk and Dean knows very well who he’s referring to.

“Shut up,” he says, smiling though.

They spend the day sunbathing and swimming and after Dean has showered, he takes Cas out for dinner. And because Dean has found this stuff ain’t that bad around here, they share a bottle of wine which has him ending up slightly more drunk than Cas, of course.

Sam sends him a text message that he and Jack are gonna be late and they shouldn’t wait up, so he and Cas keep roaming the narrow streets until they’ve reached the beach and Dean has sobered up meanwhile which is why he feels a bit panicky about a nocturnal walk on the beach with only Cas accompanying him.

He leads them further down to the shore, the street lights only a weak shimmer in the distance now, and high above the ocean a full moon illuminates the night. Dean can taste the salt in the air and his heart is pounding heavily in his chest. This is where he’s longed to be for so long. Well, not exactly here, in this small town by the coast in Italy, but _here,_ as safe as they can be, Cas still alive, everyone still alive, and Dean keeps asking himself what the hell he’s waiting for. It’s now or never.

“Cas,” he breathes out, facing him, and when the angel’s tender gaze meets his, Dean takes the final steep and closes the distance between their lips. Cas doesn’t startle at all, leaping all the way into the kiss, pulling him close by his waist and Dean slings his arms around Cas’s shoulders.

They don’t talk after breaking apart, Dean simply buries his nose in the crook of Castiel’s neck and they stand there, holding each other until Dean can’t manage any longer to stifle a yawn.

“Let’s go back to the hotel,” Cas says and Dean nods in response, slipping a hand into his.

They should talk, Dean knows, but he doesn’t want to talk. He just wants to lose himself into Cas’s arms and never wake up from this dream. Because it has to be a dream, right? Too good to be true.

“Your room,” Dean says as they stand in the corridor, unsure whether to go separate ways or stay together.

Wordlessly, Dean removes his shorts and T-shirt and slides under the thin sheet, waiting for Cas to follow suit.

“Dean, I need to know,” Cas says then, instead of undressing.

“What?”

“Do you love me back? Because I don’t want to get into this only for you to push me away the next moment.”

“Cas,” Dean starts. So he actually has to say the words, he supposes. He _wants_ them out but its feels like they’re stuck halfway down his throat.

“I love you, Dean,” Cas no more than whispers, sitting on the bed, sounding quite desperate.

“Cas,” he says again, placing a palm on Castiel’s cheek and pulling him close, placing another soft kiss on his lips. “I love you.” It’s barely a breath against Cas’s mouth and the angel draws back, searching his eyes.

“I love you,” Dean repeats, voice firmer this time, and Cas exhales in relief.

He strokes a hand through Cas’s thick hair, over and over, foreheads pressed together, until exhaustion overwhelms him and he lies down, pulling Cas with him and snuggling up to his side.

 

He’s afraid to open his eyes when he wakes up in the morning. There’s still a chance it was all a dream but he can feel the body next to his in the bed and a long draw of air through his nose makes him certain it is Cas. A hand sneaks up his chest that’s still covered by a T-shirt and a soft kiss is placed on his head when Cas notices that Dean is awake.

“Good morning,” Dean murmurs, slowly opening his eyes and his heart makes a flip when he sees Cas looking at him, all fond and with so much love, Dean has to pull him into a kiss to avoid getting overwhelmed by the sight.

They share open-mouthed kisses, tongues sliding against each other and Dean pushes himself on top of Cas, forcing his shirt upwards, inch by inch, until it’s stuck under Cas’s chin and he quickly gets up enough to allow Dean to pull it over his head and discard it on the floor next to the bed.

“Dean,” Cas sighs and Dean is pleased to realize he’s gotten hard until Cas, again, breathes, “Dean,” and Dean worries for a second that Cas couldn’t be okay with this for some reason other than some angels might not enjoying sex and Dean is overstepping his boundaries but then he feels something poke his thigh and when Dean pulls back for a second, Cas’s pupils are wide like the ocean right around the corner.

“Cas,” Dean says, surprised by how embarrassingly weak he sounds, needy, but he manages to compose himself, and resumes, “would you like to… would you mind, uh, can I touch you?” and Cas responds with an enthusiastic nod and a whine and, carefully, Dean pushes a hand past the waistband of Dean’s shorts only to notice that Cas is going commando. But how can he be blamed? It’s not like anyone’s thought of getting the angel some underwear. At the realization that Cas has been bare underneath his shorts all along, a spark of arousal makes his dick twitch in excitement. His fingers wrap around Cas’s shaft, causing him to let out a lengthy breath and Dean moves his hand to lightly squeeze the tip so he can hear him emit a sound like this again. However, this only seems to make Cas impatient, so he shoves Dean’s boxers down to his thighs instead, Dean raising his hips just enough for him to succeed and then he does the same with Cas’s shorts. He can’t help but glance down at where their mid-sections are connected as he takes them both in hand, until Cas grabs his ass and pushes them close, capturing Dean’s lips with his again, tongue slipping through, although they eventually end up just sighing into each other’s mouths anyway as Dean’s eager hand works them towards climax.

When his breathing has steadied enough and his brain mostly functions again, he rolls off of Cas, careful not soil the sheets and quickly gets a towel from the small bathroom to wipe them clean of come.

“Was this okay… Are you okay with this?” he stumbles in his post-orgasmic haze. Cas soothes his worries with a kiss. “It was very okay,” he says, “because it’s you, Dean.”

“No chick-flick moments, Cas,” Dean utters, averting his face to conceal his blush, and leans back against the headboard. Then, to save him, his stomach makes a grumbling noise and Dean announces he’s taking a shower and going to get some breakfast afterwards. Only when he gets out of a steamy bathroom in nothing but a towel he remembers he’s not in his own room and doesn’t have any fresh clothes here but he was going to wear the same pair of shorts today again anyway and decides to follow Cas’s example and go without underwear on until after breakfast when he changes for the beach.

Dean is sipping his second glass of orange juice when Sam and Jack join them at their table.

“Don’t say anything,” he shuts off his brother as soon he opens his mouth.

“I wasn’t—”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Fine,” Sam says and puts down his coffee. “Cas, I hope you two have everything worked out,” he directs towards him instead. “Seems like the timing was perfect to give you some space for a while.”

“Thank you, Sam. And yes, I think your brother and I have taken the most important steps to further our relationship.”

“Ca-asss,” Dean hisses and Sam grunts when his brother accidentally kicks him under the table instead of Cas.

“Don’t be a baby, Dean,” Sam says while spreading butter on a roll. “I have to admit it was a bit of a shock when Jack opened the door to his room and found you sleeping ins Cas’s arms, but sleeping over it I think this is good for you. I’m happy for you—both of you.”

“Yeah, whatever. So Cas and I are a thing now, end of story. Can we please stop talking about it now?”

Then, pausing for a beat, he resumes, “Don’t forget you told the people here we’re all brothers. No need to tell the receptionist the good news.”

Sam stirs his coffee. “So, does this mean you’ll move into Cas and Jack’s room for the rest of our stay?”

“Yes,” Dean hisses and empties his glass. “Now will you drop it, please. I’m on vacation.”

Sam doesn’t add more to it but can’t force away his grin for the rest of the morning.


End file.
